Ghosts
by VGWrighte
Summary: A S5 concept featuring the redemption of John Druitt. Written as realistic to the show as I could manage. Completed.
1. Chapter 1

Ghosts

Chapter 1

Based upon Sanctuary, created by Damian Kindler

This is no where near as scary as the title may or may not suggest.

Takes place after "Sanctuary For None, Pt II" and contains spoilers for just about everything.

Author's Note: I began writing this story almost immediately following the Season 4 (what turned out to be the Season) Finale. It is meant to be a Season 5 concept. There are 8 parts. I wanted to get the first chapter up while everyone had it fresh in their minds. Unfortunately, I will be unable to post the remainder of the story for sometime (even though it is completely finished) because I will be in Georgia with the US Navy. Expect the remainder of the story on or around the 1st of July. Thanks for reading, please enjoy, and Dare to Believe.

. . . ~ ~ . . .

"What?" Will asked, staring at her with his most confused and bewildered face.

"Wait, what?" Henry asked as well.

Helen smiled with understanding. "Helen Magnus is dead. I am a holographic projection of the avatar she created of herself to be the caretaker of this Sanctuary."

"I'm confused," Will said. "So, are you Helen Magnus or not?"

"In a literal sense, no. But for all practical purposes, yes."

"Do you," Henry shifted his feet nervously, "remember everything she remembered?"

She offered him a maternal smile. "The last time she recorded her memories to transfer my database was about two weeks ago. I remember all of her 274 years prior to that."

"So," Will made a characteristic face, "should we call you Doctor Magnus?"

"I see myself as Helen Magnus, there is no reason that you should not."

"I'm just gonna say it," Henry said, "This is weird."

"It is, Henry. I am in a strange place, being someone, yet not being them. All of you are in a difficult place as well because the Helen Magnus you knew is dead. Should you simply accept me as her replacement? I understand that there should be some mourning, but . . . One of the visions for me was a knew beginning, like that of this Sanctuary," she held her hands up and gestured around her.

"So, you're Helen Magnus, but not really. But we can just treat you as if you were."

She nodded. "That sounds about right."

"HELEN!" a boisterous voice called. She turned to see Nikola Tesla approaching her with open arms. "There you are, my love!" a large smile covered his face.

"How did he find his way down here?" Henry asked, looking at Will.

"Nikola Tesla," Nikola answered Henry with his usual arrogance. He stepped right up to Helen, very much in her personal space and put a hand on her hip. "Does this mean we're friends with benefits now?" he asked with a lascivious look.

"Nikola, what are?" she began to ask, but then realized, "Did I kiss you?"

He stepped back. "I am wounded. I would have thought that our passionate clash of lips was unforgettable."

"Dude," Henry stepped forward, "It's not really Magnus." He turned to her, "Sorry, Doc."

"I know that," Nikola said.

Now Will jumped forward, "You told him, but you wouldn't tell me?"

Helen started to shake her head.

"She didn't tell me anything," Nikola said. "Holograms are made of photons and forcefields. Who can read electromagnetic fields?" he asked, wiggling his fingers then pointing to himself.

"You can sense that she's a hologram?" Will asked.

"Sense, and . . ." Nikola held his hands out towards her and her body started to warp. She didn't so much feel it as, realize it was happening.

"Nikola, please," she implored him the a vexed tone she often used with him.

He stopped and her form reverted to its original state. "So, you're dead," he said, all traces of his playful tone completely gone.

"And you are the last surviving member of The Five."

He frowned. "That's a depressing thought."

Helen smiled softly. "I'm sure you'll get over it."

Just then there was a small fluctuation in the lights.

"What was that?" Henry asked.

Helen frowned. "For the last month, we've been experiencing power fluctuations. Periodically there will be a spike in the system, or I'll detect a random energy field within the perimeter. But I can't find a pattern or localize it."

"You'll detect?" Henry repeated. "Do you have direct access to the computer systems?" She could heat the excitement in his voice.

She shook her head. "I'm a little more human than that," she assured him, which made him sulk momentarily.

"You said random energy fields?" Nikola asked.

"And with increasing frequency."

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't scorn me while you were alive or Heinrich would be by himself and you'd have to start from scratch again."

Henry was about to argue, but Helen held up her hands in a gesture of peace. "Gentlemen, please." She turned to Nikola, "You always worked best when collaborating."

He folded his arms indignantly. "That's a lie and you know it." He harrumphed. "Fine. I will help the wolfboy. Lead on, Heinrich."

Henry shook his head and lead the way to his new lab.

Will tugged at his collar, "Henry, you can't get no respect," he did his best Rodney Dangerfield impression.

Nikola sighed, but stayed silent.

Will watched them leave, but then turned to her. "What aren't you telling us?"

"Will," she insisted, "Just because I was secretive for a year doesn't mean I'm hiding something all of the time."

"I agree, but you are hiding something."

She bit her lip. "I didn't say anything because it's absurd." She knew he was about to make a crack about them working for the Sanctuary, or her being an avatar of a dead woman, but she stopped him before he could make it. "If I were a superstitious person, I'd say I was seeing a ghost."

"A ghost?" he repeated. "Of who?"

"John Druitt."

. . . ~ ~ . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Ghosts

Chapter 2

Based upon Sanctuary, created by Damian Kindler

Hello, all. I have returned. Thank you for being patient.

. . . ~ ~ . . .

"Can you hallucinate?" Will asked, the words falling untactfully out of his mouth. He tried again when Magnus replied with that Magnus-look of hers. "What I mean is: Is it possible, with your programming, for you to hallucinate?"

She thought for a second. She hadn't considered that. She didn't know. She was a computer know, could she hallucinate? "I'm not sure, Will. My programming is based on my brain, but I'm not sure if a computer can simulate a hallucination."

Will frowned. "Well, let's assume, for the sake of argument, that you aren't hallucinating. We'll tackle whether you can or not if it comes to that."

She nodded. "Fair enough."

They had made their way to her - the? - new study. It had a similar home-y / Victorian style to it, as her old study did, but the room was definitely it's own. "Can you explain to me what you saw? What kind of ghost are we talking about? Ghosthunters ghosts? Scooby-Doo ghosts? Hamlet's father?"

"It started as a shadow, a whisper, like someone brushing past me in a crowd. But recently, I can almost see him. It's as if . . . " she paused, searching for the words to describe it. "I see a form, like a penumbra projected onto the space in the room, not a surface."

Will nodded at her vaguely specific - specifically vague? - description.

"Sometimes I can hear him. I can hear him calling my name. It sounds as if he's so far away, or right on the other side of a thick barrier. His voice is muffled. Yet, I can hear his inflection; he's pleading."

He could tell she was clearly troubled by the entire situation. "So, if you're not hallucinating, and he actually is here somehow, what can you do?"

"What ever is going on, it's against John's will. He wants to materialize here, but he cannot. I suppose Nikola might be able to design something which would induce an electric forcefield and force him to materialize."

"Why can't he materialize?"

Helen shook her head. "I don't know. He should be able to. We're far away enough from large loadstone deposits which would prevent his molecules from coalescing."

"Magnus," he took a step closer to her. "I don't know if it's Druitt or not. But I know that you're seeing something and whatever it is, is real."

"You're sure?"

He nodded. "Positive."

She took a deep breath. "Than he is here."

"Something is here, that's for sure."

"Well, let's bring it to Tesla and Henry, maybe they can come up with something."

_"My ears are burning,"_ the Serbian said as he entered the room.

Will groaned audibly. "I thought you two were trying to fix the power fluctuations?"

"We were," Henry grumbled. "We were halfway to my lab when-"

Tesla cut him off, "When I asked why we weren't going to my lab."

"You don't have a lab," Will said.

"Exactly!" Tesla turned to Magnus. "You built a Sanctuary out of advanced Praxian technology and you didn't build me a lab?"

"Nikola, don't see it as an insult, but lack of a tether. I didn't want you to feel confined."

His hand flew to his chest. "You know my heart!"

"But, I am going to ask you to stay a while longer, the power fluctuations aren't the only problem."

Her tone must have interested Henry, because he stepped closer to Magnus. "What's up?"

"I think John Druitt is here. I think he's unable materialize and he may be the reason for our power troubles.

"So, we should do what?" Tesla asked. "Use an EM pulse to permanently scatter his energy?"

Magnus gave him an indulgent smile. "I want you to help him materialize."

"You want us let Jack the Ripper in?" Henry asked.

"Helen," Tesla said in a quieter tone than Will was used to hearing him use. "I like John as much as the next person. There's probably only one person in the world who likes him more than I do, but he has proven - time and again - that he is working towards his own goals."

"Gee, who does that sound like?" Will asked.

Tesla turned to him. "I'm not a homicidal maniac who sided with another homicidal manic in an effort to change the past." He turned back to Magnus. "He's reckless and untrustworthy, even more so than I am."

"Which is through no fault of his own," Magnus countered.

"You're right, it's not, and that's sad. He's as much a victim as all his victims. That doesn't change the fact that he killed them. It's not that I want to kill him. I want to help him. I tried. I've tried twice, which is two more times than you have. Both times, he became violent again. The second time, much faster. When you got him from Cambodia he was only partially sane when he was with you and he deteriorated extremely quickly once you left."

"I'm not trying to suggest that this will be easy. I'm saying that he was once a good man and we shouldn't make him suffer anymore. If we can bring him here, I'm confident we can somehow free him from his elemental. And therefore we should."

Tesla crossed his arms and sighed heavily. "I'll need a lab."

. ~ .

Two weeks, eleven power fluctuations, and six Druitt "ghost" sightings later, they sat in the main lab.

Nikola had a glass of wine, with two open bottles (one of them empty) and a third unopened. Will and Henry played a lazy game of catch with the new baseball Abby had gotten Will. She had bought him one signed by Mickey Mantel, but one he could play with too. Erika, who had arrived the day before, was reading a medical journal.

And Helen . . . Helen was pacing. She hadn't been one for pacing while she was alive, but she found herself quite nervous. She hadn't seen John Druitt in 114 years. At the time he was essentially sacrificing himself for her. Now . . . She had no idea if the energy creature was still within him. She didn't know where he had been in the past year. She didn't know why he couldn't materialize here.

The lights flickered. Everyone started and became attentive.

She saw him. Sort of. His form was still shadow, though he was becoming a little more coherent with each appearance. She heard his voice. A screaming whisper, a whispering scream, a call for help, her name. He was calling her name. Like music on the wind, she heard his voice in her ear, calling her name. Pleading with her.

"Now, Nikola! For God's sake!"

Nikola activated the energy field and John's characteristic purple flash and smoke didn't appear. Instead Helen could almost see particles rushing at each other, aligning with the forced energy field which they now inhabited. The particles rushed together and formed him.

He wore the dark slacks and jacket he had when she saw him last, in these caves, one or one hundred fourteen years ago.

He turned and saw her. His face held an expression of fear, pain, anguish, agony, terror, and a thousand other emotions. He dropped to his knees, clutching at the floor, wailing sounds trying to escape from his throat.

"John!" She rushed to him.

He reached out and grabbed her leg, clutched her to him. "Helen," her name came from his lips as a cry of anguish.

She dropped to her knees and he threw himself at her, pawing at her hair, at her back, burying his face in her neck. "Helen," he sobbed again.

"John, I'm here."

"Am I?" he asked, not pulling himself from her.

"John, you're here."

"Am I here?" he repeated.

"You're right here, John, here with me."

"Am I real?" he asked.

She hesitated for a moment. It occurred to her that he may not have materialized between now and a year ago. "You are real, Montague John Druitt. Real, tangible, corporeal." She held his head to her shoulder. "You are real."

. . . ~ ~ . . .


	3. Chapter 3

Ghosts

Chapter 3

Based upon Sanctuary, created by Damian Kindler

. . . ~ ~ . . .

It took her the better part of a half hour to calm down John from his hysteria. Once he was calm enough to stand, they all made their way to the study.

Erika had met them there with some hot tea, for which John thanked her for.

To others, she was sure, John seemed fine. Almost normal. However, to her, he looked a mess.

She could see his hand shake, which he concealed by resting it on his thigh. He was still nervous that he didn't exist, she knew because he maintained constant physical contact with her. Right now his knee was gently pressed against hers. His words were slower than they should have; his voice not as strong as it had been once.

All of these things and more she saw in him. He was traumatized.

"Once you disappeared," he began his story, "the creature inside me was strong. More powerful than it had ever been. I could almost hear its thoughts. I had to move. I had to leave the caverns. I had to find . . ." he paused, taking a breath to slow his words. "I needed blood.

He paused again, staring at the cup in his hand. "I knew Adam's device was going to overload and cause an explosion in the power systems I had fed on. I thought I could simply follow you back. I didn't have the strength in my legs, but I thought that I could simply Jump there."

"But what about the electromagnetic interference?" Nikola asked.

John thought for a moment. "I was aware of it, that I remember. However, whether I didn't care, or thought that I was powerful enough to do it anyway, I am not sure. Either way, I thought I could Jump to the rift and fall through it.

"Time was running short, I had to act, so I Jumped." He paused, either for dramatic effect or to try to describe what happened next; maybe a little bit of both. "There are times when I Jump long distances or am moving much more than myself that I can sense the journey. My Jumps aren't always instantaneous.

He made eye contact with Helen. "James mentioned it to me once. It seemed he noticed it as well." He turned back to the room. "It didn't happen often. When I Jumped that last time, it wasn't instantaneous. I don't know how long it took me to realize that I hadn't materialized. I don't know how long it took me to realize that I couldn't see, I couldn't hear, I couldn't sense the world around me; assuming that there was a world around me at all.

"But I could think." His hand on his thigh begun to shake a little more vigorously. "I was aware of my own mind, and that was all." The hand holding his teacup begun to shake as well, he put it down before spilling any.

Helen placed her hand on his shoulder. "You were devoid of sensory input for a year," she concluded.

"And then I found you," he said, a soft smile coming to his face. "Somehow, I became aware of this place, of the creatures in it, and you. I experienced brief moments of feeling. And you brought me back." He closed his eyes and fell silent for a moment. He looked up at Nikola and Henry. "Thank you, Nikola, Mr. Foss. You've helped me recover my life. I am eternally grateful."

Usually when John spoke to Nikola there was a sarcastic or dark hint in his voice - evidence of their antagonistic relationship - but Helen heard none. They didn't like each other, but they were good friends and had been for over a century. Typically their relationship survived on annoyance, anger, and the general pestering they both participated in. The simple lack of pseudo-spiteful emotion in his voice said far more than the others heard.

"Sorry for bringing attention to the elephant in the room," Will said, "but last time we saw you, you were a . . ." he trailed off, trying to think of a delicate way to put it.

"Psychotic raving murderer?" Nikola supplied, for while Helen shot him a scolding look.

Will shrugged. "For lack of a better word, that."

"I can't be sure, but . . . I think it's gone."

Erika leaned over to Henry, "What's gone?" she whispered.

"An energy elemental has possessed my body for over a hundred years, it is what fueled my murderous habits." He paused, thinking. "I can't be sure, but I believe it's gone. All the rage and anger that I'd become accustomed to has simply vanished."

"Maybe it's because . . ." Nikola suggested, "you've been . . . _absent_."

"Nikola's right, John," Helen said. "You're being bombarded by sensation and feeling which you haven't experienced in a year. The disorientation may quelling the creature, temporarily." She wasn't sure she believed that, but she had to be skeptical of him. It was John; he was the one who taught her to be skeptical and weary of the world, she always had to be skeptical and weary of him.

John was silent for a moment. His knee, the one pressed against hers, shook for a moment. "I don't think so. Whether being caught in limbo starved it, or my Jump in close proximity to the rift killed it, or it left my body for some other reason, it is gone. There is a loud silence in my mind."

Everyone, except Helen, regarded him with suspicion. She knew she shouldn't believe him. Everything about their history told her not to trust him, told her to guard her heart and her family. But there was something about him, there was something that made him different.

John turned to her with an honest gaze, one reminiscent of their youth. "If I am wrong, and it still resides within me, I will offer myself for any imprisonment you have for me. If it still resides within me . . . I am not safe company."

She believed him. She trusted him. "I don't think that will be necessary, not at this point. I would like to keep you under constant observation."

He nodded, turning away from her and resuming his unfocused stare.

"John," Helen said, changing the subject, "You're exhausted. You need sleep."

He shook his head. "I couldn't sleep. Not now."

She noticed his hand was still shaking. "I'll give you a mild sedative."

For a short moment, his hand stopped shivering. He looked at her. "I can't sleep."

She understood why he couldn't sleep; it he was afraid of the void between dreams, and probably the dreams themselves. She nodded. "Very well. How about a meal, you need to eat."

He shook his head. "Perhaps later."

Helen thought for a moment. She could tell he certainly didn't want to be alone, but she also knew that he was feeling crowded. She looked up at the others, "Why don't you all go to dinner?"

"But it's only three thirty," Henry said. Will immediately glared at him Erika grabbed his collar, pulling him towards the door. "But I had a light lunch . . ." he added sheepishly, heading out the door, followed by Will and Nikola.

John settled back into the settee, his leg still touching hers. He finished his cup of tea and set it down; his unsteady hand making it clatter against the saucer. It took him a few moments to speak. "I'd prefer not to be left with my own thoughts. They're all I've heard for some time now . . . and . . ."

She placed her hand on his thigh. "I understand. I have some things to do this evening around the Sanctuary, perhaps you would like to assist me."

He nodded. "Perhaps you could tell me where we are and what's happened since I've been gone."

She offered him a soft smile. "There is much to tell."

. ~ .

John had spent the entire evening with her and the entire night. Time had gotten away from her and she had told him much of her one hundred years of planning. She had forgotten how easy it was for her to talk to him.

In their youth, they had spent long hours together, discussing anything and everything. Last night had felt no different, despite the aging of three hundred years between them.

They talked through the small hours of the night and well into the next morning.

It wasn't until they saw Will wander into the study that they realized it was morning.

"Helen!" John said, jumping to his feet. "I've kept you up all night, I apologize."

Seeing them both, seated on the settee, must have startled Will and made him uncomfortable because he made an excuse about looking for Henry and heading to breakfast. He left them alone.

"Think nothing of it, John. It's the least I could do."

"No," he shook his head. "It's much more."

She averted her gaze for a second, feeling bashful around him like she did when she was a young woman, a very young woman. "John, you should have some breakfast. You haven't eaten in over twelve hours."

"You mean over a year," he corrected.

"Either way," she insisted.

He stood. "Would you join me? We haven't shared a meal in some time."

"John, there's something you should know."

He sat back down, sensing her tone.

"I don't need to eat . . . or sleep, for that matter."

His eyebrows drew down in puzzlement.

"I am a holographic representation of an avatar of Helen Magnus. I've been designed, by her, to be like her in every way; to stand in for her."

"Where is she ?" he asked.

"She's dead," Helen said softly.

An intense sadness covered his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but for perhaps the first time in her memory he didn't have words to say.

"She created me to replace her. I know it's difficult, and that you may see me as an imperfect facsimile, but I see myself as Helen Magnus. And what is reality, if not self perception?"

"You're not imperfect," he said. He took her hand in both of his, staring at it, caressing it gently. His long fingers trailed up the inside of her wrist. She lightly bit the inside of her lip, trying to stifle the feelings his simple touch stirred in her. He looked up and met her gaze. "You look and feel like Helen Magnus."

She didn't know how to respond, he had always had that effect on her.

"You are Helen Magnus and that makes you . . . perfect."

She smiled for him, but again didn't have much to say. So, instead, she stood, taking her hand back, and changed the subject. "You should eat."

Likely recognizing that he made her uncomfortable, he also stood, nodding. "I will join the others."

Helen watched him go. There was something about John's demeanor. The way he had touched her hand. He was himself, she was sure. Now she just had to convince the others.

. ~ .

Will was the last one to enter the room, meeting Henry and Erika there. Right after breakfast, Magnus said she wanted to talk to them and they left Druitt with Tesla. "What'd you want to see us about, Magnus?" he asked.

She glanced at all their faces. She knew they probably wouldn't believe her, especially Will. He would think she was too close to the situation. She was close, very close; she had been for over a century.

"I believe John is correct when he says that the energy elemental is no longer with him."

She was met with silence and nearly identical stares of disbelief from Will and Henry. Erika, on the other hand, look thrilled. "Well, that's wonderful."

Henry glanced at her and shook his head.

"Magnus . . ." Will started.

She held up her hand. "I know what you're going to say. But my personal feelings are not effecting my judgment."

"Are you sure?" Henry asked.

"Yes," she replied firmly. "There was a distinct . . . harshness in John, caused by the elemental. However, I can no longer sense that in him. He is quiet and - for lack of a better term - soft; as he was in our youth."

"But that could just be the shock from getting his body back!"

"It's more than that," she insisted.

"What if you're wrong?" Will asked in a darker tone.

She saw Henry flinch. "I'm not."

"What if you are?"

She knew any answer she could give wouldn't be sufficient. "I'm not wrong."

. ~ .

Nikola was sprawled out comfortably in an overstuffed chair in the library. At least it looked like he was sprawled out comfortably, John knew that his posture was specifically planned to present an image of nonchalance.

"What are you going to do now?" Nikola asked.

John stared at his wine glass for a moment. "Whatever Helen wishes of me."

Nikola stared at him through slitted eyes. "It really is gone, isn't it?"

John smiled. "Yes, it is."

. . . ~ ~ . . .


	4. Chapter 4

Ghosts

Chapter 4

Based upon Sanctuary, created by Damian Kindler

. . . ~ ~ . . .

Helen sat in the study with Erika and John. Erika and John were having a charming - somewhat philosophical - discussion about the origin of abnormals and their descent into the secretive side of society. Helen was fascinated by how differently they viewed the world and their place in it. She was pleasantly surprised to see how well they got along. It gave her hope that John would be able to have a place here.

She found herself getting lost in John's words. She could remember, years ago, long conversations between James, John and herself, which stretched long into the evening. Nikola and Nigel would leave to experience some of London's night life, having heard enough of the deep philosophical or literary debates between the other sixty percent of The Five. There were so many times Helen could remember getting almost entirely lost in John's all too attractive rhetoric.

It was like that now.

"Don't you see, Doctor Myers," John said, a bit of pointed emphasis sneaking into his tone. He wasn't one for speaking with gestures, his voice was able to carry itself. "Humanity has not always shunned that which was different. There are countless examples throughout history of acceptance and even glorification of the abnormal; whether defined by the Sanctuary's definition of the word or not. There is a great of evidence which suggests that the God Vishnu's physical likeness was based upon a real being. Perhaps an abnormal of some kind. Or perhaps, it was simply a child who absorbed most of his twin within the womb." John suddenly turned to her, "Such things are possible, are they not?"

Helen was slightly caught off guard by his sudden attention to her. She recovered quickly. "They are. There are many documented cases of children with extra digits, limbs, or abscesses which were caused by partial absorption in utero."

"There was a time, that child who would now be seen as grossly deformed was worshiped as a god."

"Isn't that worship just another form alienation?" Erika asked.

"Perhaps it was," he acquiesced. "However -" He disappeared.

Erika and Helen both jumped to their feet. John had disappeared, leaving a wisp of colored smoke behind him, which quickly dissipated.

"What happened?" Erika asked. "Where did he go?"

Helen shook her head, heading towards the lab where she knew Nikola and Henry were.

"He couldn't've Jumped," Erika said, following her, "the EM shield is still up."

"He didn't Jump," Helen confirmed. "He lost cohesion; he's still here. Somewhere."

. ~ .

"What do you mean he disappeared?" Will asked.

"He was gone in a flash of . . . something," Erika explained.

"Maybe he just zorted away," Henry offered.

"_Zorted_?" Will repeated.

"He was midsentence," Helen insisted, ignoring Will's disbelief at Henry's term. "He did not leave of his own accord. He lost cohesion."

Nikola uncrossed and crossed his arms. "I don't see how, the EM shield has been up the two days he's been here."

"Ohhhhh," Henry's mouth dropped open.

"What?" Will asked.

"Doc, did you build this EM shield based on the Old City Sanctuary?" he asked.

"Almost exactly, why?"

"Because the shield has to reset itself every forty-three to fifty-two hours to compensate for the effects of solar and cosmic radiation on the Earth's magnetic field," Henry explained.

"Of course," Nikola continued. "The shield didn't just bring John here, it was keeping him here. The small gap in the field when it reset itself was enough for his molecules to lose cohesion."

"So we can bring him back?" Helen asked.

"I don't see why not," Nikola said. "We just have to wait for him to begin haunting the place again and turn the shield back on. Wolfy and I can rework the system to activate a new, adjusted, shield before deactivation."

"So a shield will be in place all the time," Will said, understanding.

Nikola snapped and pointed at him. "That's the plan."

"Get started," Helen said. "I want to be ready when he returns. He's going to be shaken when he rematerializes again; even more so than before and it can't happen a third time."

. ~ .

It had been two days since John's molecules lost coherence. Even if Helen did sleep, she would've been too nervous to do so. She had the entire Sanctuary on alert, waiting for John to appear. She was beginning to get seriously concerned that he wouldn't ever come back. She didn't know what she would do with herself if she killed him out of simple negligence. After some two hundred seventy years of life, she should have foreseen this possibility.

Helen looked up when she heard footsteps. It was Will. She glanced at her watch, it was almost three; strange how she didn't remember passing midnight.

He obviously just rolled out of bed. His hair was a mess, and he wore an old t-shirt and lounge pants. He was barefoot. He sat down next to her, yawning and running his hand over his face.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

"I am physically capable," he said, "but not tonight." He paused and let the silent between them hang comfortably. "How are you holding up?"

"Nothing like the sense of guilt to keep you distracted."

"You know this isn't your fault."

"Directly? You're right; it's not. However, I feel guilty whenever it comes to John." She paused in preparation of her confession. "John was many firsts for me. He was the first abnormal I ever treated, did you know that?"

Will shook his head.

"He took the source blood after I did and he became ill. An infusion of my own blood helped him recover, and gave him longevity." She fell silent again, but continued so Will didn't have to decide whether or not he was supposed to speak. "He was the first man I shot; the first I intended to kill.

She released a somewhat cynical laugh. "Strange that he was also the first man I ever loved, other than my father, of course. Second, perhaps after James, but that was different." She paused again. "He father my first and only child."

She shook her head and met Will's gaze. "I hated him once; for a long time. But one hundred thirteen years does wonders for forgiveness."

"Before you revealed your . . . Grand Plan, I sensed something different about you. Maybe that was it. You let go of a hundred years of anger and betrayal."

Before she could answer him, to tell him that he was probably right, the lights flickered. They both leapt to their feet. Will grabbed his tablet, standing ready to activate the energy shield.

She saw him. Across the room, she saw John's shadow coalesce into existence. "Now, Will!" she shouted at him, running towards John.

His shadow disappeared, she stopped dead; they missed it. She couldn't believe they missed it. Two days and they missed it. Who knew how long John would have to wait until he would be able to try again?

His shadow appeared in front of her and his molecules rushed together, forming him in a fraction of a second. She shrieked at the shock. She reached out to him; catching him before he could collapse to his knees. He grabbed her as well, holding on for dear life, and buried his face in her hair.

She held him as he shook.

He wept. She rubbed his back slowly.

Three minutes later, according to her - now - ridiculously accurate internal clock, John's grip loosened. "Helen," he wheezed.

"It's alright," she said, "You're back." She glanced around, Will was no longer there. He had probably left almost as soon as John materialized.

"Where did I go?"

"Our energy shield resets itself every forty-two to fifty-three hours. When it did, your molecules couldn't hold together and you dematerialized. We had to wait until you started to appear to reactivate the shield."

"How long was I gone?"

"About two days. How much do you remember?"

He shook his head. "I'm not sure."

They moved over to the workbench in the center of the room and she offered him the glass of water she had brought down with her for him.

"You said I disappeared when the energy shield was deactivated."

"Yes," she answered, knowing where his questions would lead. "And, yes, that means you can never leave the Sanctuary."

. . . ~ ~ . . .


	5. Chapter 5

Ghosts

Chapter 5

Based upon Sanctuary, created by Damian Kindler

Author's Note: The prosimians may or may not be based on a youtube video I saw about bathing baby sloths.

. . . ~ ~ . . .

John had re-reappeared a day and a half ago. In that time he hadn't eaten much, and hadn't slept at all. Helen was becoming seriously concerned for him. He couldn't go on like this; but he was too afraid to sleep. She knew she was going to have to resort to desperate measures, and that he wouldn't like them.

She knew he needed to sleep. She also knew he wouldn't let her sedate him. Helen had a different plan. One that was quite easy to enact because John was helping her with the abnormals anyway.

"And what are these creatures?" John asked as he helped her move a small jungle gym-like apparatus covered in small clingy creatures. "Prosimians?"

"Yes," she nodded as they set down the apparatus next to the two basins fitted with running water. "They're known as Sleeping Tarsiers, found in remote areas of central South America."

She reached out to one and it climbed into her palm. It's small grasping hands clinging to her fingers, fitting right into the palm of her hand. She turned on the faucet and used her free hand to judge the temperature, setting it at luke warm. Once she was satisfied, she cupped her hand and poured some water onto the tarsier. It clung tighter to her hand.

"Ah, it's alright," she told the small primate as she lowered her hand into the water, keeping it's head above water. It had rotated around her hand, its head peaking around her wrist. "Just move slow and gentle," she told John,

He reached for a tarsier and it climbed onto his hand, looking much smaller in his large hand than hers did.

Using a gentle soap and a homemade remedy to protect against bacteria, they cleaned the tarsiers and left them to play and dry on their jungle gym. They made small talk as they did so, mostly about the tarsiers and their tendency to get sick, one of the reasons why she had so many at the Sanctuary.

After picking up his third tarsier, John started to waiver on his feet. "Helen," he asked.

"I'm sorry, John, but you haven't slept in days." She reached out and took the small primate from him and returned it to the apparatus with the others.

His eyes rolled as he looked around the room, as if it were moving. His blinking became exaggerated. "What have you done to me?"

"They're called Sleeping Tarsiers because their skin secretes a powerful sedative. I'm afraid I misled you."

She circled the basin and slid her arm around his waist as he started to waiver, the sedatives taking further hold of his faculties. Slowly, she helped him over to the cot she had set out in preparation of this.

"Were it possible, would you have another child with me?" he asked, the sedatives slurring his speech. She was taken back by the question, at first, but continued to help him to the coat. She was sure he meant the question, and sincerely wanted her answer, though he never would have asked if his mind wasn't slipping out from underneath him due to the sedative.

She bit her tongue, afraid of what she would say if she set it loose. Her immediate thought was 'no,' she could never lose another child. Ashley's death had taken her to a dark place - darker than the one she had been when John left her for a murderous rampage. But then she thought of raising a small child with John, like they should've raised Ashley. She thought of watching that child grow and become their own person. Growing old and dying; burying another child. She didn't know if she could do it again.

"Sleep, John," she said instead.

He tried to keep his eyes open for a few more seconds, but sleep won out and his entire body went slack into the small cot.

Helen stared at him for a moment. Last time she saw him sleep, it was drug induced. She banished the thoughts of small children; things could never be that way between her and John again. She would not allow herself to be hurt that way again.

. ~ .

John felt as if the world was spinning. For several seconds, he couldn't even tell if he was standing, sitting, laying down, or upside down. He then realized his eyes weren't open. He opened them. The spinning seemed to slow and his eyes were able to process were he was.

He was lying on a cot in the main lab. The cot where Helen had left him after using those little prosimians to drug him.

He sat up, groaning. His head pounded.

He saw motion, a female form moved over to him. She sat next to him and steadied him with a hand on his back.

"It's alright, Mr. Druitt," she said.

_Mr. Druitt?_ Helen hadn't called him that since their youth. He turned to her. It wasn't Helen. "Those small creatures are far mightier than they appear, Doctor Myers," he said.

"Please, call me Erika," she implored.

He offered her a small smile, "Then I must insist you call me 'John.'"

She smiled. "Would you like some tea?"

He nodded, resting his head in his hands with his elbows on his knees. He felt terrible.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she sat back down next to him, offering him a cup of tea.

"Not well, I'm afraid, not well."

"Doctor Magnus said you would have a headache when you woke up."

"That is an understatement." He closed his eyes and sipped his tea for a moment. "Where is Helen?"

"She had a few abnormals to take care of. She asked me to stay with you until she returned."

"Thank you, then, that was kind."

"Waiting for you to wake was no inconvenience. I can't do much else around here, on account of the passenger." Her hand rubbed her pregnant midsection.

"Ah, yes, the Foss Child. How much longer to the happy occasion?"

"Eight months," she replied.

His brow furrowed. "I may have been gone a year, but the human gestation period is still nine months, is it not?"

"It is," she answered. "There were some complications due to some medication I had been on which had prevented my ability to transform. Doctor Magnus artificially extended the pregnancy to ensure development."

He nodded. "Miracles of science."

"I see you're awake," Helen said as she entered the room. "How's your head?"

"It's been better," he replied with a simple smirk, taking a sideways knowing glance at Erika.

"Again, I apologize, but you needed sleep."

He nodded. "In spite of the aftereffects of your creatures, I do feel better."

She smiled. "If you're feeling up to it, I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

She nodded. "Would you care to see."

John glanced at Erika and she offered him an encouraging smile. "I believe I would."

. ~ .

"I thought you might want something to do; something to occupy yourself. It's not an entirely time consuming activity, but I think you may like it," Helen told John as he followed her through the Sanctuary.

Even in his silence, she could tell he was interested. He had been . . . unhappy in recent days. He couldn't spend any but the briefest times by himself and he felt as if he was a burden on the staff. He didn't want to need a caretaker.

They stopped in front of a large tank, the home of the mermaid who had lived in the Old City Sanctuary. "This is" what followed her introduction could only be described as a complicated of combination of improbable syllables.

He stared at her, unbelieving. "Could you pronounce that when you were alive?" he asked.

She smiled. "After a great deal of practice."

The mermaid swam up to the glass, either seeing or sensing their presence. Perhaps for her species, they were the same thing; he didn't know.

"When we were in Old City, I spoke to her every day. It helped with the isolationism, for both of us, I think."

John watched the mermaid as Helen spoke. She seemed to be watching him and generally ignoring Helen. Her movements were subtle and somewhat hypnotic.

"However, we can no longer communicate."

He looked from the mermaid to Helen, his expression questioning her 'why.'

"I no longer have a physical mind for her to read. To her, I am just a animated copy. We cannot speak to each other and she cannot sense my presence."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. He could tell that Helen was disappointed that her avatar didn't make her "alive" to everyone.

"I would like for her to have a companion; someone to converse with on a daily basis; someone to ease her solidarity."

"And you would like me to fill such a role?"

She nodded. "I would."

He stared at the mermaid for a moment.

Helen must have read more into his hesitation. "You don't have to decide now, and you can always change your mind later. Would you like to meet her?" He had to admit she wasn't completely incorrect, but she was right. He could always change his mind.

He nodded. "I would." He turned to the mermaid. "How do I speak to her?"

"Place your hand on the glass and speak aloud."

John stepped up to the glass and placed his hand flat upon it. The mermaid did the same. _"Good morning, John Druitt."_

He jumped back from the glass, the voice inside his head, louder than his own thoughts.

Both Helen and the mermaid shared similar somewhat bemused expressions.

He placed his hand back on the glass, over the mermaid's. _"That is not an uncommon reaction,"_ she assured him. _"It can be unsettling to hear an unfamiliar voice invade your thoughts."_

"That's quite alright," he said. "You have a very pleasant voice."

She smiled. _"Thank you. Yours is lovely as well."_

"My mother always told me that."

_"It has a certain resonance, which is very attractive to me."_

"I am glad it pleases you."

_"Helen always liked it too."_

"You use the past tense for her?" He was only slightly aware that Helen was still standing next to him. The mermaid seemed to attract all his attention, even more so than Helen usually did.

The look the mermaid gave him seemed sad, but unapologetic. _"I must. She no longer exists for me."_

"Her existence has simply changed."

The mermaid smiled. _"When someone dies, you can simply say that their existence has changed. But you cannot communicate with them. Through images or video, you can still see and hear them, but it is not the same."_

John nodded, understanding. "My condolences for your loss."

_"Thank you, John. I must admit, I do feel some jealousy. Your dear friend has not been lost."_

John glanced at Helen, who was still watching him with interest. "Were I in your shoes, I would very much feel the same." He paused and thought for a moment. "Metaphorical shoes."

An enchanting lyrical sound filled his head, and he knew she was laughing. _"I like you, John Druitt. Perhaps you would enjoy speaking with me again."_

He glanced at Helen once more. "I believe I would enjoy that immensely, my dear, immensely."

Without saying goodbye, she swam away from the glass.

"You like her?" Helen asked.

John nodded. "She is lovely."

"I'm glad, John. I would so like for you to have and feel like you have a place here."

He took her hand a squeezed it. "I may be confined here, but I do not feel trapped here." He was positive of his statement when she gave him a smile he hadn't seen from her in a very long time.

. . . ~ ~ . . .


	6. Chapter 6

Ghosts

Chapter 6

Based upon Sanctuary, created by Damian Kindler

. . . ~ ~ . . .

"It's just such a sad story, isn't it?" Erika asked as she pulled the blankets up over her stomach. She was sitting in bed, watching Henry put away some of his things.

"What is?"

"Doctor Magnus and Mister Druitt."

"Yeah," he agreed. "It wasn't really anyone's fault, but everyone was a victim."

"He still loves her."

Henry nodded. "Yeah."

"But it seems that Doctor Magnus isn't willing to trust him with her heart again."

"Nope."

Erika didn't really notice the distance in Henry's tone.

"You should've seen his face this morning when he woke and realized I wasn't Doctor Magnus."

Henry turned towards her. "Wait, you were with him when he woke up this morning?"

"Yes," she released a small laugh. "Doctor Magnus exposed him to the Sleeping Tarsiers without telling him and this morning she had a few things to attend to, so I waited with him."

He took a step towards her. "I don't want you alone with him," he said flatly.

"Henry, I never thought you'd be the jealous type."

"I'm not jealous. I just don't want you alone with him."

"Why?"

"He's not safe."

"Doctor Magnus says-"

"I KNOW WHAT DOCTOR MAGNUS SAYS!" He frowned at himself. "I'm sorry," he apologized simply and sat on the side of the bed, next to her. "She's been wrong about him before; twice. I've seen what it looks like when she's wrong about him." He took her hand. "I can't risk her being wrong this time; not with you, not with the baby."

Erika regarded him carefully for a moment. "Okay." She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "Because you feel so strongly about this."

He gave her a brave smile. "Thanks." He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

She watched him silently as he finished getting ready for bed. He turned off the light and climbed in next to her. After a second, she rolled onto her side and tucked next to him, resting her head on his chest. He immediately put his arm around her.

"I'm excited about our baby," Henry said softly.

"Me too." She squeezed him for a second. "Do you want a boy or a girl?"

He thought for a second. "I don't know. Sometimes I think that I want a cute little girl who looks just like you. Then I think that I want a little boy who likes to take things apart and get into trouble."

Erika giggled.

"What do you want?"

She shrugged. "I haven't decided. Either is going to be fun."

"Yeah, that's true."

"I was thinking about girls' names."

"Yeah?"

"Ashley," Erika said quietly.

"I think she would've been embarrassed by that and told us to pick another name."

"So, no?"

Henry shook his head. "I think it's perfect."

"I love you, Henry."

He kissed the top of her head. "I love you, too."

. ~ .

"What are they bringing back with them?" John asked Helen as they approached the entrance from the surface; as far as both of them could go.

"An Eaglet."

"Which is what?"

She glanced at him sideways. "I'm not entirely sure. They were sacred to, and protected by, the people of a small group of islands in the south pacific. However, due to outside interference, fewer and fewer of the people believed in the old ways and the Eaglets were abandoned. Will and Kate are bringing one here to see if we can find a home for them underground; where they can be cared for."

John nodded and they waited in silence. He noticed there was an unusual formality in her voice.

After several minutes, Helen's radio came to life._ "Magnus, it's Will. Can you hear me?"_

"I can hear you, Will."

_"Something's wrong. The Eaglet just lost consciousness and his breathing is very erratic."_

Helen immediately turned and started to sprint towards her lab, John was hot on her heals. "Get him down here as quickly as you can," Helen told him.

They made it to the lab and Helen started grabbing supplies and tossing them on a gurney.

"What's his heart rate?" Helen asked Will.

_"Fast."_

**John**. A voice echoed in his thoughts. He turned around, looking for the source. Finding nothing, he resumed helping Helen.

**John**. There it was again.

**John.**

A realization struck him. It was the mermaid. He ran towards her habitat and put his hand on the glass, she was waiting for him.

They both immediately spoke, overlapping each other. _"I can hear him."_ - "You can project yourself into my mind when I'm anywhere?" he asked.

He paused, processing what she had said. "Hear who?"

_"The creature with Will. I can hear him."_

John tapped his temple with his free hand. "You can hear him in here?"

She made a gesture, which he had learned was the mermaid equivalent of a nod. _"He's . . ."_ she made a gesture of frustration. _"Something's wrong. I - it's hard for me to explain. He feels . . . Tight."_

"Tight?" John repeated.

_"Yes, tight. He's in pain. It's unlike anything he's experienced before; like a great weight."_

"Tight," John repeated again. "It's the pressure," he realized.

_"What?"_

"No time," he told her. "I'll return shortly, Dear." He left her and ran after Helen, who had already left to meet Will and Kate. "Helen!" He caught up to her. "He's telepathic, Catherine can hear him."

"Who?"

"The mermaid, she can hear him. She thinks it's the pressure that's causing his illness."

"The pressure?"

"The pressure is greater down here, is it not?"

They stopped at the edge of how far they could go. "Yes, but only by a small amount . . ."

"It's the pressure, I'm sure."

She nodded. "We have a hyperbaric chamber; it won't hurt to try."

. ~ .

John had been right. Almost as soon as Helen got the Eaglet into the hyperbaric chamber and lowered the pressure to sea level, he returned to normal. When he opened her eyes she wasn't at all surprised that an entire culture worshipped them. His eyes seemed so large for his little face. They were an enchanting shade of metallic lavender.

He seemed frail, all eighteen inches of him. A body similar to that of a man's, except for the large wings that sprouted from his back, and the long white feathers which covered both his wings and part of his back and up his neck to cover his head and shoulders.

He had long, skinny legs. They were not plain skin, but covered in soft scales, beginning at almost talon-like toes, traveling up his feet, shins, past his knees, and merging into skin along his thighs.

His face, too, was similar to that of a man's, but with decidedly avian-looking features. Apart from his large eyes, his face was long and narrow. His nose and chin extending out from the plane of his face, mimicking a beak; she supposed.

Helen thought that he probably should've been considered a rather unattractive little creature; but she found him absolutely wonderful. Again, she regretted her inorganic body. She couldn't communicate with the Eaglet. He couldn't sense her mind. In order to minimize the trauma of interacting with a being he couldn't sense, she had him under light sedation. Until she could bring the hyperbaric chamber up to pressure; the Eaglet was going to have to remain sedated.

However, as soon as he could be brought up to pressure, she would have John come speak with him. She looked up, seeing John looking at them through one of the small portholes. She briefly wondered how long he had been standing there. "You named her Catherine," she said.

"What?" Her question caught him off guard.

"The mermaid, you named her Catherine."

He nodded.

"After your sister?"

He nodded again. "She thought it was sweet."

Helen smiled. "As do I."

He didn't respond, perhaps not knowing what to say.

She spoke instead. "Can you speak with her now? Ask her if she hears anything from him now?"

"Of course."

She watched him turn and leave.

Helen had never met John's sister. She had died when John was young. If John had started calling the mermaid 'Catherine,' he must've really liked her. Helen smiled to herself, John liked it here.

. ~ .

John put his hand on the glass. "Good afternoon, my dear."

_"John!"_ He had never heard her so excited before._ "John, he's amazing!"_

"You're communicating with him now?"

A grin consumed Catherine's face. _"Yes. You can tell Helen she needn't sedate him. He understands that he won't be able to sense her; that she is an echo of what she once was."_

John nodded. "I will do that. I know Helen wanted to wake him as soon as possible, but didn't want to startle him."

_"I can only imagine what he's like when he's awake,_" Catherine said. She sounded giddier than a school girl. _"Right now his thoughts are disjointed, confused. Almost like he's intoxicated. But when he's conscious . . ."_

John smiled. "You're excited to have a new friend, aren't you?"

A twinge ran through his mind which he assumed was the mermaid equivalent of a blush.

"And I am excited for you, my dear. I'll go tell Helen she can wake him at any time."

_"Thank you, John. And thank you for listening to me, and helping to save his life."_

He kissed his fingers and pressed them to the glass. "Anything for you, my dear. Anything."

. . . ~ ~ . . .


	7. Chapter 7

Ghosts

Chapter 7

Based upon Sanctuary, created by Damian Kindler

. . . ~ ~ . . .

Catherine smiled as she watched the Eaglet flutter over to the glass on the air side of her habitat. She was amazed by the way he moved. Perhaps slightly similar to that of a ray, flapping his wings with large broad strokes; clearing incredible distances in such a thin medium with what seemed like such little effort. She wondered if he thought her movement was graceful; her comparatively large body shifting through seawater, riding currents of temperature and salinity as he rode currents of air.

_"I do."_

She was more than a little surprised when his voice came into her thoughts. Catherine hadn't thought she was projecting; she shouldn't have been able to hear her.

_"I'm sorry,"_ he apologized. _"You were not projecting. I'm afraid I was eavesdropping."_

_"That's alright."_

He steadied himself in front of her habitat; bobbing up and down slowly. Up as he beat his wings in a long slow stroke, down as he begun to sink to the ground. _"No, it was impolite. I was just . . . curious about you."_

For the first time in a very long time, Catherine felt a little bashful._ "I am curious about you as well."_

_"The way you move is amazing,"_ he admitted.

Now she felt very bashful.

A rosy purple color snuck over his shoulders and towards his wings. _"I didn't mean to embarrass you. It's just that I find the strength in your body and the way you flow through fluid enchanting."_

_"I wish you could experience it with me,"_ she admitted.

He smiled with a nod. _"And I wish you could experience flight over the land and oceans with me."_

There was a sullen silence between them for a moment; a realization that they were simply two different creatures.

_"My name is Gretenuo."_

_"Mine, I've been told, is difficult to pronounce. But you may call me Catherine."_

_"Catherine?"_ he repeated. _"A human name."_

_"John offered it to me, as his sister's name had been Catherine. I have been feeling isolated and without family of late, as there was a massacre among my people not long ago."_

She could tell he understood. _"My kind are on their way to extinction. This is why I came here, to save my race."_

There was another silence.

_"What are clouds like?"_ Catherine finally asked, hoping to ignore the dark feelings they shared. She was pleased when he answered her question.

_"As close to the sea as I will experience, I suppose."_

. ~ .

_Her head rested on his chest, her golden curls splayed all around them both. On a whim, he gathered a few curls with his fingers and brought them to his nose, inhaling her scent. A small giggle escaped her lips._

_"You are intoxicating, Love," he told her._

_"Habit-forming as well?" she asked playfully._

_Using his long arms, he shifted her smaller form closer to his face and kissed her lips. "Oh, most definitely."_

_"Excellent," she replied in a tone which he found far too sassy. Again, he shifted them, rolling his upper body over hers and kissing her soundly._

_"Will it always be this way between us?" he asked._

_"Which way?"_

_"Endless days and nights consumed by unadulterated passion, undying devotion, and an innate need of your body and soul?"_

_She smiled sweetly, cupping his cheek in her diminutive, but strong, hand. "As long as you love me; yes, it will be this way."_

John woke.

He rolled over in his bed to see the artificial light of the cavern sneaking through his drapes. He sat up, rubbing his hands over his face roughly. He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner, four o'clock. He grumbled to himself as he stood; it was light here all the time.

He disliked that very much.

Perhaps he would be happier if it were dark all the time? No, likely as not; though it would match the mood of his heart. He put on more suitable attire and headed towards Catherine's habitat.

When he arrived, he simply watched her for a moment. Catherine didn't sleep all that much, and was awake as he suspected. She was drifting around aimlessly. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was daydreaming.

He put his hand on the glass. "Catherine," he called out softly.

She turned slowly to see him and made her way over leisurely. _"Good morning, John."_ Her voice sounded strange in his head. He could almost describe her tone as "flighty."

"How are you feeling today?" he asked, skeptical of her behavior.

_"Wonderful."_

He regarded her carefully. "What has you in such a pleasant mood?"

_"Gretenuo."_

"Gretenuo?"

_"The Eaglet."_

"Ahh," John nodded in understanding. "He is more interesting than you expected."

The impression he then received from her was that if she were human, she would've sighed and swooned. _"John, he's amazing. He's seen so many things, and been to amazing places I can only dream of. His heart is soft and sweet. The things he says are filled with such beauty and emotion; yet he is light and makes me laugh."_

John smiled, unbelievably happy that she found a creature so meaningful to her. "I am so happy for you, my Dear."

Her mood sunk. _"But he is so far away."_

"Far?"

_"You can I can communicate through the pseudotouch of our hands on the glass. Gretenuo and I can communicate over short distances through our telepathy. For telepaths, physical contact can open an entirely new world of their creation."_ Feelings of excitement flooded from her. _"Together, Gretenuo and I could swim the depths of the ocean. We could fly to the tallest peaks of his homeland. Dance for hours at a Masquerade Ball. Swing from branch to branch in the Amazon jungle. Tunnel burrows in the desert. We could be unbound! Limited only by the stretches of our imagination._

Her mood sunk once more, deeper than before. Her eyes bored into his with a soul crushing sadness._ "However, because of the nature of my habitat, I cannot experience that with him; with anyone for that matter."_

He nearly wept for her. John put his other hand on the glass in a futile attempt to comfort her. "Believe me when I say I understand what it is like to be so separated from one's love."

If mermaids shrugged, John was sure she would've shrugged then. _"At least we'll be alone together."_

. ~ .

It had been killing him. Every time he spoke to Catherine she was the same, disheartened. She cheered considerably when Gretenuo was with her. But there was still a sullen atmosphere between them, a sad realization that would never, could never, be together.

Then this morning, it dawned on him. He was strolling through the gardens, Gretenuo soaring above him. He paused as he walked by a small pond. A few fish swam underneath the lily pads and some type of water bug skitted across the surface. Then it hit him. The solution to Catherine's loneliness. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before. He knew he had to speak with Helen.

He knocked on the open door to her office.

_"Come in, John,"_ she called from within. He was the only one who didn't barge in directly. She looked up from her things. "Good morning. What can I help you with?"

He hid a grimace, formal as usual. He found that since he had remateralized for the second time, she had been increasing her distance from him. Her professionalism becoming more and more prominent in their day-to-day interactions. "I had a few questions about Catherine."

A frown graced her face for a brief moment. She gestured to the chair on the opposite side of her desk. He sat, the large mahogany feature seemed like bars to him.

"What is the pressure of her habitat?"

She blinked, surprised by his comment. "I'm not sure, off hand. I'd have to look it up."

"What I mean to ask is, can her habitat be open to the air?"

Helen considered his question for a moment. "It can. As of right now, she is under a greater pressure, but we could steadily lower and increase salinity levels so we could open it to our standard atmosphere. Why?" A smile flashed on her face. "Are you considering a swim?"

"Not for myself, and it will remain a secret for now," he replied playfully.

Instead of taking his bait and replying with another playful comment, she simply nodded and returned to her work. "Very well," she said, almost as an afterthought.

He sat in surprise. Did he really mean so little to her? Was she really so unconcerned with him?

Helen looked back up at him, noticing he hadn't left. "Unless there is something else?"

He stood swiftly. "Apparently there is not," he replied tersely, removing himself from her office as quickly as he could. After he left the room and rounded the corner, he paused, wondering how such a warm room could hold such a cold professional.

. ~ .

_"John, what are you doing?"_ Catherine asked once again.

John smiled to himself. "Just give me another moment, Dear, and I'll reveal my grand plan." He opened the glass door he had just installed at the top of Catherine's habitat. He then lowered a plexiglass platform a few inches into the water.

_"John . . ."_

He removed his shoes and socks. Sitting on the top of her habitat, he lowered his feet into the water and onto the platform he just installed. He then lowered himself onto the platform with his legs dangling in the water.

_"John!"_ Catherine's voice shrieked excitedly in his head.

"What do you think, my dear?"

_"John, it's wonderful."_

He smiled, for the first time seeing her through the surface of the water instead of glass.

_"I can't believe you when through all this trouble for me."_

"I didn't offer you my sister's name just because it is pretty."

She reached towards him. _"May I?"_

He nodded and she reached for his foot. The feel of her hand was a strange combination of slimy and sticky, not all together pleasant. But he only felt it for an instant before . . .

He was standing in a bluish greenish space. At least, it felt like he was standing. He took a step forward, simply to see if he could. Yes, he could. He would walk in this place that had no discernible floor, ceiling, or walls for that matter. He looked before him to see Catherine. She was floating in the space, as she would float in her habitat.

_"What do you think, John?"_ her voice echoed in his mind.

"Where are we?"

_"Our bodies are in the Sanctuary. This is just one place that I can create. It is the most basic of places that we can interact."_

He walked towards her, and she swam towards him. He reached out and touched her hand. It was still somewhat sticky and slimy.

_"Let us try something else, shall we?"_ there was a playfulness in her voice.

She moved back from him and in the blink of an eye, she was gone. Where she had been was a young woman.

John smiled. Other than the long dark hair which cascaded down her back, the olive skin and the human legs, it was undoubtedly Catherine. She smiled at him. She had a gorgeous smile.

_"What do you think?"_ she asked, sounding perhaps a bit embarrassed at her vanity. He hadn't expected to see the words come from her lips and the sound to reach his ears. She turned around once, bringing his attention to her attire for the first time. She wore a stunningly simple dress of dark lavender with a large crew neck that fell straight to her knees. She was barefoot.

"You're lovely, my dear," he assured her. "Absolutely lovely."

She closed the distance between them, but paused several inches from him. She didn't need to project her feeling for him to understand what she wanted. John smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling Catherine into warm hug. She put her arms around him as well and the space was filled with her lyrical laughter.

. ~ .

John sat on the top of Catherine's habitat, next to the door and platform he'd installed.

_"I'm nervous."_ Catherine admitted.

"You are?" John grinned, finding her nerves endearing.

_"Very."_

"You needn't be," he assured her. The impression he got from her was dubious. "You know him very well, do you not?"

_"Yes."_

"And he knows you very well, does he not?"

_"Yes."_

"Are you afraid he will suddenly find you revolting?"

_"No."_

"Then there is nothing to fear."

John saw something distract Catherine and she looked past him. John turned to see Gretenuo flittering over. "There you are, young man," John said, causing Gretenuo to chuckle. The chuckle caused a girlish giggle from Catherine.

Gretenuo landed on the top of the habitat next to John. He looked down at the platform. He sat down on the edge, dipping his feet in. Gretenuo wiggled his feet in the water for a moment before lowering himself onto the platform. He inched over to the edge as Catherine inched towards him as well.

John smiled as Catherine reached up slowly and touched Gretenuo's foot.

For the first time since he met her, John saw a small smile curve onto Catherine's face. Seeing he was no longer noticed by either party, he took his leave.

. ~ .

Helen and John stood looking up into Catherine's habitat, Catherine and the Eaglet were at the surface.

"You've done a wonderful thing, John. She has not been the same since the massacre of her people; but this may help heal her wounds."

"Love often heals," he said, leading her.

"It can," she said before she turned and walked away.

_"It can?_" he repeated. "Is that all you have to say?"

"What do you wish me to say?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, Helen. But if a bird and fish can find a way to live their love, why cannot we?"

"Things between us have changed, John," Helen answered in a warning tone.

"I asked you once if things would always remain the same between us; you told me they would as I long as I loved you. I have never stopped loving you."

"A meaningless answer from one fool to another. We are no longer those people."

"You cannot speak it, can you?" he asked. "You cannot admit that once you loved me with all your being; still do, I believe. I know the fire still burns within you, I can feel its heat."

"You can feel nothing from me."

"Again, Helen, the distance!" he snapped. He had been patient with her long enough.

"What distance?" she asked, clearly feigning ignorance.

"The barren sea between us! Void of all emotion! The remnants of what was once between us now gone - swept away, by time, loneliness and your inability to communicate!"

_"My inability?"_ she repeated, sounding offended. "You're the one who remains silent about the trauma you've experienced over the past year; the past century!"

"And who's fault is that, Helen? I've tried to speak with you."

"We speak often!"

"Do we? About what?"

"What I've been doing for the past two hundred years!"

"NO!" He shouted, taking a harsh step forward. "We've been speaking about what the Sanctuary has been doing for the past two hundred years. _You_ have been conveniently left out. It's the story of your life as told by a history book!" His voice dropped. "I've no idea how you lived for two hundred years. The people you've met. The lives which you've affected." John paused for a moment, barely noticeable. "The lovers you've had," he hissed.

She didn't answer; perhaps not knowing what to say.

"I have two nightmares, Helen. The first is a void; a darkness where there is nothing but my own thoughts. The second is a place, sometimes like this one, where I exist as a phantom. I have no control over my presence, merely existing invisible to everyone and everything, but completely aware of my surroundings. All I ever see is you in the arms of another man."

Her face became hard, which her tone immediately matched. "I have lived some two hundred seventy years, Montague John Druitt. Yes, there have been other men."

"Yet no one knows anything of them. They are lost; _ships passing in the night_ is the expression, I believe! Any part of any tale which may include the tiniest shred of your humanity was removed! Forgotten in the sands of time by a hardened heart!

"Has that been my fate? Cast aside, any contribution or effect simply ignored? Is my being here simply a interruption in your life of one-time-only use?" He stopped, his voice dropping and his tone sharpening. "Perhaps not forgotten by a hardened heart; but by a heartless woman. Perhaps Catherine is correct, you are just a soulless projection." He turned to leave.

"How dare you!" Her raised voice made him stop in his tracks. Her voice held a vile anger. "There are many people in my heart. And there is only one who holds a greater stake than you, and she had her father's eyes." She didn't allow him to respond, but stormed from the room.

John watched her leave in shock. In his anger he was wrong. She was still Helen. She have a heart; a heart which still grieved for the loss of their daughter.

. . . ~ . . .


	8. Chapter 8

Ghosts

Chapter 8

Based upon Sanctuary, created by Damian Kindler

. . . ~ ~ . . .

Henry walked up to the mermaid's habitat. He looked around in it for her. First, he looked at the surface, expecting her to be with the Eaglet. He saw neither of them. She swam up from deep within the tank, surprising him a little.

He put his hand on the glass, she did the same. "Hi, Sally." He paused. "You go by Catherine now, right?"

_"Whichever you prefer, Henry."_

"Okay, um, Catherine." Henry paused, a little embarrassed. He wasn't sure if he could just ask his question, and he certainly didn't know how to ask her.

_"You have a question, Henry?"_

He nodded.

_"You may ask if you're ready."_

Sometimes, when he spoke to the mermaid, he felt like he was six years old speaking to his grandmother. "What do you think about Druitt?"

_"I like him. What do you think about Druitt?"_

Henry released a nervous chuckle. "You're right, that was kind of a stupid question. I guess what I meant to ask is . . ."

_"You wish to know if John is safe."_

Henry nodded. "Yeah. It's just . . . Magnus has been wrong about him before, but you . . . You're a telepath."

_"Even though I never spoke with him before he was freed; but I could sense the presence of the elemental, even though I didn't know that's what it was at the time. Even when it was dormant, I could sense it in him. I can no longer sense it. He is himself."_

Henry sighed in relief.

_"The news you were hoping for?"_

Henry nodded. "Yeah, and it just proves that you always should trust Magnus."

. ~ .

"Hey, Doc, you got a minute?"

Helen looked up to see Henry walk into her office. From his tone, she sensed that that this was not a conversation to have across a desk. She stood. "Of course," she said, rounding her desk and taking a seat on the couch.

He sat next to her, then stood and sat across from her, then stood again to move.

"Henry, sit," she stopped him from continuing to jump nervously.

"I wanted to apologize," he said.

"Apologize? For what?"

He wrung his hands and avoided eye contact, she tried to remember a time she'd seen him so ashamed. It might have been when she caught him filching cookies from the kitchens. "For not believing you about Druitt."

Her eyebrow rose.

"I didn't believe you when you said that he wasn't Jack the Ripper anymore. I was just too worried about Erika and the baby and . . ."

She leaned forward and placed her hand on his. "Concern for your child is never a bad thing."

"I should've trusted you."

"Henry, it's alright."

"No, I should always trust you. If he what he did for Catherine, he's not Jack the Ripper anymore." The confidence in Henry's tone actually surprised Helen a little. If Henry was so sure he was safe, perhaps she could be as well. "You were right, he's nothing like he used to be like. Umm . . . Recently used to be like. . . . You know what I mean."

She afforded him a soft, motherly smile. "I know what you mean, Henry." Henry thought John was the man he had been when they were young. "To be completely honest, I knew he was free from his elemental; but I've been finding it difficult allowing myself to trust him . . . on a personal basis."

Again, he surprised her with his tone; this time understanding and almost wise. "You're the doctor, but . . . That's not because you're worried about him slicin' necks. You've been single for a long time."

She smiled again. "When did you become the adult of this relationship?"

Henry shrugged with a cute smile. "Hey, you got me."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "Thank you for trusting me, and convincing me to trust myself."

Henry made an exaggerated frown as Helen stood. "I am the adult now, aren't I?"

She laughed as she left him in her office. She had someone else she needed to speak with.

. ~ .

There was a knock on the door of his quarters. His pacing stopped. It was Helen, he knew. He went to the door and opened it. She looked slightly nervous, much less so than he felt.

"Please, come in." She did and he closed the door behind her. She stood in the center of the room, not taking a seat on the settee. "I have said things I regret," he admitted.

"So have I."

"Anyone in your past is your business; you've done nothing wrong. I'll not accuse you for walking the path on which I set you. But, I have always loved you, Helen, and the distance between us now - physical and emotional - is . . . painful."

"John," she tried to speak.

He held up his hand and took a step closer, though it seemed much of the room was still between them. "I know that the things I've done are not easy to forgive; nor do I expect you to forget them. However, as you said, I am a different person now. But, a person who loves you with all his heart and is constantly wounded by our separation."

"John," she tried again. "Yes, there were things that I thought I could never forgive. However, one hundred thirteen years of strategic avoidance does wonders for forgiveness. And you are right, you a much different person now. As am I."

He took another step closer, somehow there was now little space between them. Her breathing quickened. He smiled. "You are not so different. Your body still reacts to mine."

Her eyes drifted closed for half a second and her tongue wet her lips. "I would not be myself if I did not react to your presence," she admitted. Helen turned and retreated from him. "When we were young, you were the cause of," she thought, trying to turn her emotions into words, "curiosity. Because of you, some of my interests changed and I began to wonder what it would be like to be a wife.

"Then, after you first took me in your arms, your nearness caused a shiver in my heart and an overwhelming desire to be with you. And John . . . Things were . . ." she smiled. "I'm sure you remember how wonderful it was.

"And, when you," tears welled in her eyes, but she ignored them and continued. "When you lost yourself, your presence caused a sickening betrayal; but the desire was still there, still prevalent. I was forced to smother it with anger and hatred.

"But, over the years, the wound of betrayal has tempered to a scar and the anger and hatred have faded. All that is left is the all consuming desire, and fear."

"Fear of what?" he asked her, leaving the distance between them.

"I've lived long enough to see history repeat itself; quite literally."

He took a tentative step towards her. "For the first time in my life, I am truly in a position to offer you everything I have and everything I am. The others may come and go as they please. However, for better or for worse, I am confined here. Even if I were not, I would rather stay here and serve you than do anything the surface has to offer. There is nothing for me there; but there is everything for me here." He took another step to recover the physical closeness between them.

"We are not so different, are we John? Abnormal creatures dependant on the environment of the Sanctuary to sustain us."

His hands found her waist. "Ghosts, with only each other for solace."

She took his face in her hands and brought his forehead to rest on hers, her eyes shut. "It's been a long time, John."

"Fear?" he asked.

She opened her eyes to his gaze. "Of how powerful we are together, of how dependent I am on you."

"My soul is entirely dependent on yours. And the power; that is not to fear, Love, but to cherish."

The air was deathly still between them and without a moment's notice, they shared their first kiss in over a century - or two, depending on how one was counting.

"I would," she whispered.

"What?" he asked.

"Have another child with you, were it possible."

She released his face, and slung her arms around his neck as he shifted his grip on her; their bodies pressing against each other.

"As would I."

"I, too, have always loved you," she admitted.

"Then be mine." He placed small kisses starting from her lips to her ear. "For all eternity."

Her fingers ran along the back of his head, where his thick dark locks had once been. "I think I have that time to give you."

. . . ~ FIN ~ . . .

Thanks for hanging in there with me, and please let me know what you thought.


End file.
